Page 8 of The Getaway

When the young employee spots me, a wide smile spreads across his face and he makes his way over. Stopping in front of me, he leans a hip against the bar while keeping his eyes on mine.

“What can I get for you?” he asks with a flirtatious smile, dropping his gaze to my chest.

Smiling politely, I check over the wall of alcohol and come up blank.

Once again, I falter and rack my brain for something to drink.

I hear a grumble at the same time a sharp sting radiates across my elbow.

“Ouch!” I exclaim, falling back in my seat and rubbing the ache away. My hand freezes, holding my elbow as I stare down at the bar top.

“Sorry,” Muscle Man mumbles, but my attention is solely on the menu that he shoved my way. A slow smile spreads across my face, and I’m almost certain I thank him, but I’m already scanning through the options.

“Ooh!” I exclaim, slapping the menu shut and setting it back on the bar. “Can I have a creamy coconut mojito?”

Another thing I get from my Ma; my undying love for mojitos.

“You can have anything you want, Miss.” The bartender flirts, turning away to start making my drink.

Twisting in my seat, I offer the menu back to Muscle Man with a smile. “Thank you.”

He nods in response, taking it from my hand, only to place it back between us without another word.

While the bartender makes my drink, I fidget with my phone case, ready to pull out my ID or credit card if needed. Everything is already covered, the blue rubber wristband I have on is the only verification any employee needs for food and beverages. Still, I can’t help but feel weird not handing over my credit card.

I try to tame my excitement, knowing it’s probably sad how excited I am for this drink. But this will be my first official drink on my dream vacation, and it feels significant.

Which is stupid since it’s just a drink.

Circumstances be damned, at this moment, I’m happy.

I’m practically shaking in my seat when the bartender sets the glass down in front of me with a smile.

“Let me know if you need anything else, Miss.”

However, the tropical beverage has my full attention.

Without thinking twice, I pull my hand away to unlock my phone and take a quick picture. I’m not normally one for photographing my food or drinks, but this one is worth remembering.

With a satisfied grin, I lock my phone again and set it gently in front of me.

When I finally sip my drink, I can’t contain the wiggle of joy that courses through my body. The little happy dance only solidifies that I am right where I’m meant to be. Any lingering doubt washes away as the cool liquid runs down my throat and all that remains is a newfound sense of happiness.

As I sway to the beat of the music in my seat, I look around the bar and my earlier worries about being alone fade with each sip.

I made the right choice.

Mindlessly, I stir the drink with my straw, turning to watch the band as they start warming up. Which means that Muscle Man is in my line of sight, and I can’t help but observe him instead of the band.

He now sits ramrod straight, playing with the edges of the label on his beer bottle, making the tattoos that coat his arms jump with each movement as he stares ahead. I spare a quick glance to find out what’s holding his attention, only to find him staring at the wall of alcohol.

Maybe he was hoping for the seat next to him to stay empty?

Briefly, I contemplate moving. But if he didn’t want to be around people, he shouldn’t have come here. There are plenty of private areas throughout the resort that he could have gone to instead.

Still… maybe it’s me that is making him uncomfortable?

“Do you want me to move?” I blurt out.

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